Sunday, June 5th.
Under sharpshooters’ fire all day, but none of my men was hit. The body of Col. Porter, of the Sixth N. Y. Heavy Artillery, who was killed on the 3rd, was recovered to-day, as were the bodies of several other officers and men. A charge was made upon us by the enemy but it was easily repulsed, and later my company was sent to build more breastworks on other parts of our line.
Colonel Lyon’s Letters.
Bellefonte, Jackson County, Ala., June 5, 1864.— We left Stevenson yesterday morning at eight o’clock, in the midst of a very heavy rain, and reached this point, 14 miles distant, at sundown. We had several hard showers during the day, but the boys did not seem to mind it much. It rained all night, and until about nine o’clock this morning, which makes the roads very muddy; so I concluded to lay over today, especially as it is Sunday. We move at sunrise tomorrow morning, and it will take us two days to reach our destination, which is about thirty miles from here. We have 800 men and 20 teams, and make quite a little army.
The country over which we marched yesterday was tolerably level and looks not unlike our oak openings in Wisconsin, though the soil is generally thin and poor. The road was bad in places, and we were detained several times by wagons breaking down or getting stuck in the mud. We learn that the roads are better ahead, and the mud is drying rapidly this afternoon. The whole route is a desert, made so by our armies. Fences are destroyed, and nearly all the plantations are deserted. Many of the houses have been burned down, and there are no growing crops.
The Adjutant and I rode into Bellefonte last night ahead of the regiment, and such a picture of utter desolation as the place presents I have seldom seen, even in the South. The village is the county seat of Jackson county, and was once about half the size of Elkhorn, Wis. Its situation is not unlike that of Elkhorn, being built on level ground around a public square, in the center of which once stood a fine court house. This court house was burned down the day the 13th marched through here last September, and in consequence of that coincidence we were charged with burning it; but it was not so, and I indignantly denied the charge and demanded the proof. It has not been produced. At that time there were many citizens here. Now they are all or nearly all gone, and every building is nearly destroyed. This was done by General Sherman’s army last winter. The frames and roofs and brick walls are standing, but the siding has been torn off, partitions broken down, floors ripped up, and doors and windows all carried away or destroyed. The fences, too, have disappeared, and the whole site of the town, gardens, dooryards, public square, and every place except a narrow track in the center of the street, is covered with a rank growth of weeds.
When we came in a dead silence brooded over the place. There was no sign of life except two half-starved, poorly clad women, slowly making their way through the deserted streets on two lean and hungry-looking donkeys; and a solitary cow feeding upon the weeds by the roadside. It looked like a fit home for owls, and bats and serpents, and it was difficult to realize that it was ever the abode of man. Yet riding about the town we find many evidences of the taste and refinement of the former inhabitants. The ruins of what were once beautiful flower gardens are frequently met with, and blooming among noxious weeds we found roses and other flowers in great profusion, which in variety of coloring and brilliancy of tints excel anything we ever see at the North.
The people are fugitives in the South. They are all bitter Secessionists, and they are now reaping the terrible fruits of their great crime. In a frenzy of unholy passion they sought to destroy our Government, to tear down the glorious fabric of liberty, which was our common heritage, and lo, their homes are a desolation, and they and their wives and children, like Cain of old, are wanderers and vagabonds in the earth. Like Cain, too, when they think of their mansions destroyed, of the ruin that reigns where once they dwelt, of the peace and prosperity and happiness they once enjoyed, they may well exclaim, ‘Our punishment is greater than we can bear.’ And now, having indulged in a little highfalutin, ‘merely to show you,’ as Josh Billings says, ‘that I ken du it,’ I will come down to matter of fact things and inform you that the peaches are as large as butternuts, and the country is full of them. Blackberries are nearly full grown and turning red; raspberries and cherries are ripe, but scarce.
It will be several days before I can get another letter to the postoffice for you.
June 5th. Late last night our company detailed for picket duty. Located at the ford, near the town. It was a fearful, dark, rainy night. Every man was on duty and on the alert all night. By order of General Hunter a large woolen mill was burned this morning. I noticed a number of women were crying as the mill burned. It had been used to make cloth for the South. Death and destruction follows in the path of war. This is a quiet Sunday morning in old Connecticut. Here a battle is about to begin. Came off picket, ordered to join the regiment. After a forced march, about six miles, overtook the regiment, taking our position in the line. Soon skirmish firing began and grew hot. Our boys driving the Rebs as we advanced. About 7 A. M. the enemy opened fire on our line with batteries well posted on high hills, distance about two miles, getting range on our colors. At the time we were advancing by division front, when the shells began to come lively. Our Colonel’s voice rang out clear “By division, into line, right and left, half wheel, forward, double quick.” The command was quickly executed as the regiment advanced in line through the open lots, taking the extreme right of the line of battle. We could plainly see all that was taking place in the open country. The enemy’s line of battle was formed in a wooded field at the top of the highest hills. We were forced to jump brooks, some quite wide, and climb over fences, all this time under fire. We could not return the fire because of our skirmish line in our front, between us and the enemy.
Reaching the foot of the hill on which the enemy was posted, we were ordered to crawl up it on our hands and knees. Reaching the brow we were ordered to rise, at the same time the enemy poured a deadly volley into our ranks. A number fell, and the stock of my gun was shot off. As we started on a charge for the enemy in the woods they broke and ran. As we poured a sharp fire into their ranks, they left their first line of earthworks and fell back to the second. We continued the charge on through the woods, coming out into an open lot. Our Colonel being mounted, saw the second line of earthworks in the edge of another wooded field, commanded a halt, which was done after a while. Then we were ordered to fall back and re-form in the edge of the woods and to wait for orders. My gun having been shot and no good, I picked up another one on the field. I was very sorry to lose the old musket. A number of our boys had fallen. The enemy was strongly posted on another hill across an open field which we must charge through in order to get at them.
Orders came for us to take their works. A charge was again ordered, but we were ordered to fall back and reform. Another attempt was made to capture the works. Owing to our heavy loss the Colonel ordered us to fall back. Our regiment was holding the extreme right of the line. In the second charge across the field a bullet pierced my tin coffee cup, hanging on my haversack, making, as the boys said, two close calls for me. After the second charge our Colonel called for a battery, posted it in a good position on our right, where it did great execution. The enemy attempted to take the battery but we drove them back. A third charge was ordered across the open field. We were again obliged to fall back. The enemy’s fire was too hot for us and we were losing many good fellows. In the third charge the colors went to the ground, the corporal of the color-guard, who was carrying them, being shot down. I jumped and picked up the flag, waving it and holding it up.
Later, orders came to prepare for another charge on the enemy’s earth works. A desperate effort must be made to capture those works. As a signal, a cheer would ring out from the left of the line, extending to the right, for the entire length of the line, to charge. It was quickly done and the battle was won.
The enemy threw down their arms and were prisoners. In the fourth and final charge, the Confederate commander, Major General Wm. E. Jones, was killed. He was known as Billy Jones. I saw the dead commander lying on the field, he having been shot through the forehead. I also saw the flag of truce when the Confederates came for the body. I spoke to the escort, they telling me who the dead General was.
The day had been a long, hard one. We were under fire from 7 A. M. to 5 P. M. Sorrow came to us over our loss, but we must have something to eat in order to keep up. I carried several canteens over to the Shenandoah River, filled them. On my return I stopped to see a young wounded Confederate. Bathed his wound on his foot with the water from my own canteen. He thanked me kindly as he lay on the ground, patiently waiting for his turn to be cared for. After having rations I picked up a few blankets, visited the field hospital, and covered our boys over with them, as the nights were cool. It was a sickening sight to me. No more desire to visit a field hospital after a battle. I made my way back to our company in the dark. Lay down on the battle field for the night, for rest and sleep. Dead and wounded around us.
Sunday, 5th. Rainy and cool this morning. Would that I could see some of the dear home friends. A letter from Minnie Friday did us much good. Hear the glad result of the fighting last night. Rebels charged our center from five to eight times and every time were repulsed. Passed the day mostly under the fly, visiting with the boys, reading my testament and thinking over old times, troubles, joys, blessings, etc. The phantom form still haunts me day and night. Cleared off before sundown. All the commissary corps here now. Gen. Wilson remarked today to Gen. Sheridan that the 2nd Ohio was the best regiment in the Div., that the 5th N. Y. was formerly but it had to yield to the 2nd now.
Sunday, 5th—Rain again this forenoon and clear this afternoon. We started early this morning, our regiment leading the advance division, and at 3 o’clock reached our destination, Rome, Georgia. The sixteen miles covered today was over very muddy roads, such as we have had for the last fifty miles, and all were greatly fatigued. Some of the men gave out completely and had to ride in the ambulance. News came that General Grant had surrounded Richmond, and that General Sherman was driving Johnston, but the report is too good to believe, yet I hope it is true.
June 5, 1864.
The Rebels run last night. Everything gone this morning slick and clean. Our regiment was the first in their works. I was over their works to-day and find three lines, two of them very strong. A number of dead men lay beween their lines and ours, which neither side could bury. They were killed during Hooker’s fight of May 25th.
Well, I expect another heat like this at the Chattahochie river and when we get them out of there, as we are bound to do, ho! for easy times!
My health continues excellent, and I hope it will until this campaign is over. I am making up for some of my easy times soldiering. The Rebels were awful dirty and the smell in their camps dreadful.
We got some 25 prisoners in front of our division. I think one more big stand will wind the thing up. They made no noise whatever in getting away. I was from 12 to 3 o’clock in the night working within 75 yards of them and did not hear them at all. At one place their works ran through a graveyard, and they had torn down all the palings inclosing graves, to make beds for themselves, and unnecessarily destroyed everything of beauty around. I am sure we would not have done so in our own country, and would not anywhere. I don’t give these Rebels half the credit for humanity or any of the qualities civilized beings should possess, that I used to. I estimate loss of our army here at 7,000—killed, wounded and missing. It may be more. Heavy reinforcements are arriving though, and the strength of the army is much greater than at any time heretofore. Spirits excellent. I could tell some awful stories of dead men, but forbear. We moved at 9 a.m. about four and one-half miles toward the railroad and have gone into camp for the night.
This is the first day since May 26th that I have been out of the range of Rebel guns, and hardly an hour of that time that the bullets have not been whistling and thumping around. I tell you it is a strain on a man’s nerves, but like everything else that hurts, one feels better when he gets over it.
Huntsville, Sunday, June 5. Company inspection at 8 A. M. Lieutenant Hood and four of the boys as escort went to Whitesburg on a visit. Did not feel well this morning, vomiting and headache, rather dyspeptic, must be more careful as to diet. Fine wheaten bread and meat improper diet, but it is all we can have.
E. W. E. and myself took a most pleasant walk to the graveyard. Walked among the dead of the time that knew peace and tranquility, and others whose lives had been wrecked by the cruel hand of war. The towering marble erected by loving hands marked the resting place of one, while the rude pine slab denoted where the other lay far away from his native, home and kindred. Did not attend service during the day, but attended the army church with Cousin Griffith. Listened to an excellent and liberal sermon from post chaplain, urging the importance of cultivating religious principles, none other is genuine. Six soldiers were baptized after service and the sacrament administered to a large circle of soldiers. There were none others present. Reached camp by 10 P. M. Found a long interesting letter from brother John awaiting me.
June 5th, 1864.
I received two letters from home yesterday. Although nearly a month has passed since they left the hand of my loved one, the joy and comfort they bestow is inexpressible. Oh, my darling, how my heart has been tortured by the long delay.
The siege of Richmond has actually begun. We are only eight miles from the city, and I can plainly hear the booming of heavy siege guns. There has been heavy fighting the last three days, all resulting in our favor. I have been where I could hear and see much of it. Dr. Bonine, who has our parole papers, is surgeon in charge of Division Hospital. He is very busy during these days of continual fighting, and cannot attend to us. So we must wait until this campaign is over. I have liberty to go where I choose within our lines. I saw Mortimer Crawford yesterday. He said he had been through all the late battles and escaped unhurt. Jerome Beardsley was killed in the first day’s fight in the Wilderness. Lieutenant Gould was also killed.
June 5. —Were again under orders to move, and did not get off until 6 P.M. We then moved to the rear, throwing back our right, as we form the extreme right of the army, the Fifth Corps moving to the left. Very heavy firing on our extreme left, some ten miles off, I should think. The enemy attacked the Eighteenth Corps a little after dusk, and were repulsed. Saw Ladd to-day.
June 5 — Rained last night and this morning, but this afternoon and evening the sky is clear and the weather calm and delightful.
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